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Hey folks, I'm going to drop out. I'm probably a bit overloaded (eyes bigger than my mouth, so to speak) and I've just never really clicked with this campaign, or really with playing a solarian, honestly. Happy gaming! I'm sure we'll see each other around.
It's basically a gas station, but without the pumps, isn't it?
My diplomacy's not great, might as well try intimidate?
Pertinax stands next to Sparks.
"Sounds like our best lead is this Hardscrabble group. What say we contact them first? Then let's investigate the gangs." "Sounds fine to me."
Pertinax looks more confused than anything by the Dirindi's odd pronouncements, but gets the gist of what's going on. He gets out his PersComm and pulls up the music app, and begins playing an old favorite from back home at a volume that's loud, but below what he figures would draw the neighbors' attention.
Pertinax merely shrugs, distracted by his searches. "I could eat."
Pertinax helps the others look around, and tries to find a common theme in the articles Zem finds.
While Zem looks one way, Pertinax looks the other.
"Lead the way." Pertinax says, with a gesture towards the door, but addressing no one in particular.
Pertinax is more than a little surprised by the offer, but nods his assent to joining the Society after a moment. Well. That was...unexpected. Before he can do more, the others resume their conversation, and he contents himself with glancing between them and nodding from time to time.
Do whatever you need to do, and I'm all for making any accommodation we need to. I lost my mom years ago. It's rough, and you've got my sympathy.
When Chiskisk invokes the Lady of Graves, Pertinax bows his head and responds "So is she always, so may it ever be."
Towel? Pertinax thinks, but only cocks an eyebrow and keeps walking.
Just then, Pertinax walks up, unhurried, dressed all in black. "Apologies. Those beds are almost too comfortable." He says, as he props himself against the nearest wall or column. Arms crossed, he surveys the room, just to be sure.
No joke, the rancid butter thing is real. Check out this fragment of a poem, composed in the 5th century by Roman Prefect turned Bishop of Clermont (and later Saint) Sidonius Apollinaris while he lived amongst the Burgundians:
Pertinax waves his butter knife in Sparks' direction. "Make sure and wash that butter off tonight. Some primitive cultures may use butter for hair styling, but you don't want to leave it in your fur too long. It attracts flies." He somehow remains entirely deadpan while saying this.
Pertinax glances toward Sparks and Dirk, but then returns to buttering his roll. No point letting the food get cold while I wait to be filled in.
This hardly seems like a time to head to a resort. Puzzled, Pertinax scratches his head and glances at Zemfira, who also seems less than enthused. With a shrug, he follows the rest.
"I also think we should contact the Society first. We could, of course, offer to help out. that way if we do find ourselves checking out his place we can't be accused of trespassing."
"One wonders where he got such scurrilous rumors."
Pertinax is solemn, but accepting. He quietly offers a prayer for passage of the dwarf's soul. He then says "Life comes, and life goes. It is the way of all flesh. Her place is to choose. Ours is to accept." not quite to himself.
Pertinax steps back to let those with medical knowledge work, and to cover them. Just in case.
As his weapon continues to charge, its color changing from orange to yellow, Pertinax stabs it at the chest of the gang member.
Likewise, I'm good with it. Pertinax's first priority is making sure our people are safe, though he's willing to take potshots with his Azimuth Laser Pistol if need be.
...The white hot slug streaks across the bay. He doesn't care if he hits or not. He just wants to give cover to his team... Let's pull straight back, past Dirk, heading toward Zephyr. That should at least get him out of the crossfire and toward more friendlies.
Arriving, Pertinax taps Zemfira on the shoulder to get her attention. "Let's get him out of here." he says, jerking his head toward the dwarf. Then he suits action to words, hooking his arms under the dwarf's shoulders, ready to move if Zemfira and the other grab his legs.
Pertinax dashes forward, but the weight of his armor keeps him from reaching the fallen dwarf as quickly as Zemfira.
Incredibly suspicious, if you ask me.
Pertinax checks twice to make sure he has all his things, then heads down the ramp, clad in his usual somber black. He cracks a short-lived smile at Dirk's antics, but shakes his head, stops a the rear of the group, before looking around to see what he can see of the station from here.
I'm good with whatever, as long as I don't have to pay for a subscription.
Pertinax arches an eyebrow as the others debate. "Not sure I believe any of that. What I do know about the flow of time is that when it's your time, you'd best go. Pharasma does not like to be kept waiting."
Pertinax takes a subsidiary navigation console on the bridge and hopes his time studying was productive.
Zem made sure to spend some time in the Common Room, asking the others polite questions as they passed through. "How did it go?" regarding the interviews and "What do you think about the Drift? Have you traveled through it before?" of the impending jump. And finally, "What are you interested in seeing at Absalom Station when we arrive?" "I will certainly be paying my respects at the Cathedral of Pharasma. Beyond that I'm not really sure, but I do not doubt that there are many wonders to be seen."
A few days on, Pertinax enters the room he'd been told, wearing his fancy new designer flight suit, to make his pitch for some additional training in the basics of piloting.
I wouldn't mind learning some rudimentary piloting. I doubt I'll ever be the best, or even second-best, but if we ever need multiple gunners it might come in handy.
"No, actually I love Eoxian Death Metal. It's the one major cultural thing from back home that always stuck with me, for whatever reason. No, I'm afraid I was playing on a common Eoxian trope: while after the cataclysm many years ago many Eoxians embraced undeath, and the planet is still largely run by the Bone Sages, as they're called, there are still many living Elebrians, such as myself. I'm as alive as any of you. Frankly, I detest the undead. It does terrible things to society when those with power never grow old and retire."
"I...why would that make people throw up? I'm guessing that's the one." Pertinax says to Zephyr. "Well, your first and third go together, right? Anassanoi live in the sun. I think. So I'll say you weren't top chess player." "Hmm. Three facts. Well, three things, since lies aren't facts. This is tough." Pertinax says, tapping his chin as he thinks. "My favorite music is Eoxian Death Metal. I am not technically alive. I hope to become a Hellknight."
"So, do I go next?" he says, also looking to Sparks.
Sorry Pyros ... I felt like Blue was honest enough on the way "in" about not knowing much about the setting ... so I figured I would help substantiate Sun Tzu versus calling anyone out. Hope that's okay with everyone. No worries. That was definitely IC as much as OOC for my character. I didn't *think* Sun Tzu had made it in, but the setting is so vast I could always have missed it, and Pertinax doesn't know anything at all about ancient Golarion. (I do still think it'd be cool to have Sun Tzu in the setting as a deity. I might outta write that down for a home game).
Pertinax raises an eyebrow when Sparks proposes his game, but is happy to let Zemfira go first.
"Uhh...Sun Tzu? I don't know what that is. Did you make it up?"
After introductions, Pertinax wanders back to his room, where he spends several hours catching up on the news, browsing some messageboards and reading up on the latest rumors about new developments among the Hellknight orders, and reading today's portion of The Bones Land in a Spiral. Eventually, when his stomach starts growling, he heads out to get something to eat.
In Pertinax's background, he was a well-liked, if not exceptional student, but one who had fallen in with what the administration considered a bad crowd and become a bit of a juvenile delinquent (at least as the authorities see it). So he was "awarded" this scholarship to get him out of the local authorities hair, and not have to send him to a juvenile detention center one day. Or, as seen from his perspective, the undead oppressors exiled him for being part of a Pharasmin sect (albeit a very junior member) that wants to overthrow Bone Sage rule on Eox.
Double checking his ticket, Pertinax nods to himself and quietly waits his turn. He is surprised to be greeted by an atlas, but smiles anyway "Thank you Bahz, you are a scholar and a gentlebot. I think I can find the way." he says, tabbing over to the relevant app on his perscom. Dropping his things in the room designated, he glances around and nods approvingly at the dark tones and stellar motifs of the room Almost like riding on the outside. Without all the danger. he thinks. Heading to a nearby common area, he sees a group whose members he vaguely recognizes from the Academy, and heads over to them. "Excuse me, didn't we have Kasathan Ethics together?" he says to the Brenneri. "Sparks, wasn't it? I'm Pertinax." For the party: the Elebrian approaching the group, like most of his race, appears almost human, though his pale skin and complete baldness would strain the edges of normal variation. His enlarged cranium sets him clearly apart from that baseline, though. He wears Lashuntan ringwear, of a midnight blue so deep it looks black in most lights, and a pendant of the spiraling-comet holy symbol of Pharasma.
Yeah, my Solar Weapon functions as an advanced melee weapon, but the same text block says I'm automatically proficient with it, and why use any other melee weapon?. So, what to choose, what to choose. Longarm proficiency, I think. Might need something bigger than a pistol.
Pertinax worried as he repacked his things. It would be the first time he'd been back to the Pact Worlds System since he'd been...well, not *exiled* exactly. Not technically. But certainly encouraged to *go away*, and he wasn't sure what reception would be like. Certainly, Absalom was not Eox, but if there were Bone Sages on the station... Shaking his head to clear it of such worries, he made a mental note to visit the Cathedral of Pharasma when he had the time. His faith's houses of worship were often grand and architecturally impressive, but more important to him was that they were places of calm and soothing. He never felt more at peace than when on the Lady of Graves' holy ground.
Pertinax's manifestation is a blade made of fire that seems to come directly out of his hand, Pretty much like the iconic's does, though in Pertinax's case it shifts colors as he becomes more attuned, from red to yellow to white.
Ok, Ouachitonian/Pyros/etc checking in. Should be more or less ready. Didn't realize this thread was active yet. I'll cross post a question I asked in recruitment, if y'all have thoughts:
"I am an accomplished swimmer, praise be to Dagon," Pertinax says, holding up a partially-webbed hand "and might be able to come at their ship from an unexpected angle. I am not, however, much of a climber, so it'd be best to make sure there's an easy way up the ship's side before I go in."
Pertinax nods and stands up. "After you, ma'am."
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